Mornië Utulië, Darkness Has Fallen
by The Vampire Pandora
Summary: A.U. She would never let another man control her life. He would never let a woman wound his heart. Neither of them saw it coming... Eow.Leg. They had yet to find each other...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Welcome back. I've decided to re-work this story and post it once more unto the site. A quick warning. This story is VERY A.U., (for any one who does not know what this means, it stands for "alternate universe"), so the story does not follow the story lines. However,  
the beginning follows the MOVIE Two Towers and some of the dialogue is excerpted from it.  
But as the story progresses, we journey unto the new story. I've had this idea for ages and I just wanted to type it out. I'm going to try for fewer, longer chapters, so bear with me. 

Of course, I own nothing except the original plot.

Kindest regards, _The Vampire Pandora_

**Chapter 1 - A Strange Fellowship**

The golden sun came streaming down from the azure sky, and its rays beat down gloriously on the backs of three running figures. The heat warmed them as they ran, their feet pounding the dusty trails. They had been going on this way for days, without food, without rest...And they were still no nearer their goal.

Legolas wiped his sweaty brow with his arm, squinting against the light. Away, far into the distance, he could see a band of Urukai dashing madly across the plains. His elvish eyes could distinguish two struggling shapes, kept prisoners by the constricting arms of two of the monsters.

" Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?"

Legolas sighed, turning his gaze away from the party of Uruks. He looked down into the roguish face of Gimli, his dwarf companion.

" They've run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them", Legolas answered gravely. " Our friends are still captive."

A look of sadness dulled the usually bright eyes of the axe-wielder, and he nodded knowingly. He could only look at Legolas, for neither knew if anything comforting could or needed to be said.  
Legolas patted Gimli's shoulder encouragingly, and the two started again to run. Since he was an elf, Legolas was barely winded by the long trek, but he knew that the short-legged dwarf was having a difficult time keeping up. Although he labored for his every breath, Gimli was too proud to ask if they could rest. Legolas, with a sigh, decided to swallow his own pride on behalf of his stubborn little friend.

"Aragorn! Aragorn! Mercy, a rest."

The ranger stopped, and swung around angrily. His wild, black hair framed his gaunt face like a mane, and his dark eyes shot sparks of frustration. He looked at Legolas. They both knew that the elf needed no rest, but that he was asking on the dwarf's behalf. Aragorn gazed down at Gimli, who was hunched over, gasping for breath.

"Fine", sighed the ranger, " We stop. But only for a moment. We can not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death."

"No one said anything about forgettin' them, laddie", Gimli growled, "But the pointy-ear requested rest, and this one time I am willing to agree with him."

And with that, he slumped down, crossing his little legs under him. Aragorn shook his head with a smile, and joined him. Legolas, however, could not sit. He walked on a little, enjoying the change of pace. With his keen eyes, he was able to follow the Urukai until they were hidden by some large, rocky hills. With a sigh, he turned back to his fellows.

Sitting down across from them, Legolas could not but smile as he took it all in. Where he was, what he was trying to accomplish, who he was accompanying. A few months ago, he had been back in his native Mirkwood, with his father and brothers. As prince of the elvish wood, Legolas had rarely ever ventured away from his domain,on the exception of visits to Rivendell to see Elrond. That was, of course, before the Ring of Power had wrought its way into his life. He could remember that day so clearly, the day he had been summoned to Elrond's council. Of course, since he was immortal, memories did not grow so dim as they would for a Man or some other mortal. Gathering in Rivendell had been quite a crowd. Men, Dwarves, Elves, even the little Hobbits, all had come together to hear what the Lord of Rivendell had so urgently needed to tell.

Legolas had heard the story. He had heard the tales of misery and destruction from Elrond and the wizard, Gandalf. But it had been the heart-wrenching courage that the little hobbit Frodo had demonstrated that had pushed the elven prince to vow his bow to the cause. Many others had followed his suit.

Boromir, son of the Gondor Steward. A boorish and vain man, Legolas had not the time to get to know him. In a successful attempt to save the lives of Merry and Pippin, Boromir had been shot down by eight orc arrows. A proud man, he had remained a hero until his death.

Gimli, son of Gloin, on the other hand had not impressed Legolas. Loud, obnoxious and self-absorbed, it had taken Legolas a long time to see deeper into the dwarf's soul. He saw now that Gimli was brave and fiercely loyal, and although the old rivalry of elves and dwarves had stood between them, both had had to admit they had become good friends.

Then there was Aragorn, the ranger, who was son of the last king of Gondor, Arathorn. Legolas had heard of the strange man, and knew he had all but been raised by Elrond himself. But what Legolas hadn't known, was that Aragorn was the Elessar, the vessel, the true King who was destined to bring down the dark lord Sauron himself. And of course, the hobbits. Frodo Baggins, the ring bearer. Sam Wise Gamgee, his gardener and protector. And the two hobbits that Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli had been tracking.

Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, Pippin and Merry to their friends.  
That, of course, left the wizard Gandalf, who had fallen in the dark mines of Moria. And Legolas himself.

" You look deep in thought, friend. Are you tired yet, or are you ready to retake the road?"

Legolas smiled at Aragorn, and laughed at Gimli, who groaned into his red beard.

"Ready as you are, my friend."

The elf offered a hand to the dwarf, but the latter shrugged it away and heaved himself up. Shaking his head, Legolas took his place behind Aragorn, and the little group began to run. The earth under his feet felt cool and fresh, and Legolas could have easily dug his heels in and over taken his mortal companion. But he did not mind running behind Aragorn. He had no desire to take over as their captain. The wind blew through his long, blonde hair, and it felt refreshing as it swept by his pale face. He felt guilty at the joy this wonderful element brought him, and so he refrained from smiling too widely.

"I'm wasted on cross country", Gimli shouted from behind. "We dwarves are natural sprinters!"

As he and Aragorn laughed at their friend's gruffness, Legolas could however not help the feeling of dread that was creeping slowly into the pits of his stomach.

* * *

The noon sun was high in the clear sky when Aragorn gave them a quick signal to get off the main trail. Quickly darting behind some boulders, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn stayed out of sight as a large caravan of riders galloped past them. Standing tall, Aragorn calmly stepped out of their cache. Before Legolas could stop him, Aragorn called out in a strong voice.

"" Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark"

Legolas quickly recognized the emblem that was imprinted on the armor of the riders. The horse-  
lords of Rohan, of course! These men came from the great country of Rohan, and judging by the style and design of their gold encrusted weapons, Legolas realized they must be from the capital,  
Edoras.

Aragorn showed no sign of fear as the riders turned and rode toward him. At their captain''s signal, the knights started to circle Aragorn, their spear heads pushing closer to the man''s chest.

"Aragorn", Legolas whispered.

The elf felt himself be pushed from behind. Gimli had rushed by him, and was already hurrying over to their friend, ready to defend him. Legolas cursed under his breath for his hesitance, and swiftly followed the dwarf.

Aragorn remained calm as the captain dismounted smoothly from his steed. Legolas's grip on his bow tightened slightly as the rider came face to face with the ranger.From the corner of his blue eye, Legolas could see Gimli's hands resting tensely on the head of his battle axe.

"What buisness do a Man, an Elf and a Dwarf have in the RidderMark", angrily demanded the rider. "Speak quickly."

Before Aragorn had a chance to answer and before Legolas had the chance to stop him, Gimli had stepped up squarely to the rider. His deep, garish voice boomed out.

"Give me your name Horse-Master, and I shall give you mine"

Legolas rolled his eyes, and he heard Aragorn''s swift, frustrated breaths. Clearly in shock at having been so defiantly stood up to, the rider drew his sword and glared down at the proud little man.

"I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground"

Legolas moved to quickly to be seen. Blindly, his hand pulled out a arrow, and it was already drawn to the rider''s head before the latter could blink.

"You would die before your stroke fell", he whispered harshly.

Aragorn looked at the elf pointedly, and Legolas put down his weapon. The rider sighed, and removed his helmet. Stringy, shoulder length hair came cascading down around his face. The dark blonde catching the green in his eyes. As he did this, his soldiers also lowered their weapons, and a few removed their visors and helmets.

""We are tracking a party of Urukai across the plains", Aragorn explained calmly. "They have taken two of our friends captive".

The captain''s face fell slightly as he heard Aragorn''s words. Legolas suddenly felt cold. This human knew something. Something they were not going to want to hear.

"We slaughtered the Uruks during the night", the captain said softly.

"But there were two hobbits", interrupted Gimli, "Did you see two hobbits with them"

The captain''s answer was obvious before he spoke a word.  
"We left none alive...I am sorry."

Aragorn''s proud form slumped slightly, and Legolas supported himself on Gimli''s sturdy shoulder. Legolas wished he could weep. He wished he could express the pain he was feeling.  
Pippin, Merry...Those two brave hobbits who had done nothing wrong. Legolas felt a shudder of anger shake through his slender body. He would avenge his friends. He would.

"I am Éomer, son of Éomund.", the rider offered. " My uncle Théoden is Lord of Rohan"

"We are friends of Théoden", answered Aragorn.

The rider looked on sadly for a moment, and merely shook his head. He replaced his helmet, and swung up neatly into his saddle. He paused, and brought two fingers to his mouth. He let out a shrill whistle, and called out.

"Hasufel! Arod"

Two sturdy horses, a bay and a grey calmly stepped up to their master. Éomer nodded to Aragorn, signaling that he was to have the two. Aragorn thanked him with a small smile and turned to the horses.

Legolas felt his eyes lock with those of the horse-man. His own clear blue ones were lost amid the dark green of the strangers. The lord watched him warily, and Legolas returned the suspicion.  
It was obvious that neither trusted the other.

Legolas and his friends stood by as the riders turned and galloped off. But the winds carried Éomer''s voice back to them.

"We piled the carcasses and burned them, over yonder to the west a few leagues. Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope"

And with his farewell, Éomer and his knights disappeared in the sunlight. After giving Gimli a leg up unto the grey, "Gerrof pointy-ear, I can manage!", Legolas jumped up smoothly behind him. His long legs naturally positioned themselves into the stirrups. It had been such a long time since he had ridden a horse, but surely, one could never forget such an art.

Aragorn had mounted the bay, and without any further words, both horses were urged on.  
Aragorn''s easily took the lead, whilst Arod, who was burdened with two riders, fell slightly behind.  
The pile of charred bodies was easy to see, even from a distance. Thick black smoke was still rising from the center of the heap, and the putrid smell of burnt flesh and hair nearly knocked Legolas off his horse.

Aragorn leaped off Hasufel and ran to the mound of dead. Legolas, who had quickly followed him, forgot about Gimli, and left him to tumble off Arod with much less grace than the elf had demonstrated.

Legolas's hawk eyes searched through the carcasses desperately. He could see nothing. Nothing but Uruks and a number of orcs. He could see no hobbits.  
Gimli cleared his throat gruffly, and his voice broke slightly as he called out to them.

"It's one of their wee belts"

Legolas quickly recognized the charred peice of leather the dwarf was holding up. It was the dagger belts Merry and Pippin had received from Galadriel, the Elvish Queen, when the Fellowship had traveled through Lothlorien, her domain. Aragorn fell to his knees and screamed,  
pounding the dirt with his fists. Legolas looked away, and muttered a short elvish prayer for them.  
He did not see Aragorn start suddenly, and the elf jumped slightly as the ranger''s voice broke the silence.

"A hobbit lay here", he pointed out a groove in the dust. "And the other"

Legolas looked closely. He could see the body prints that Aragorn was pointing out.

"They may yet be alive", Legolas whispered to him.

Gimli rushed a little ahead, examining the ground and poking and moving weeds with the pick of his axe.

"Their tracks!", he called out to them, "They lead away from the battle"

Legolas and Aragorn rushed to his side. The little dwarf stood frozen, his gaze glued to the ancient wood that stood before them.

"Into Fangorn Forest", Legolas whispered to the wind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - The White Lady of The Golden Hall**

The woods were dark, and even with his eyesight Legolas found that the gloom hindered his view. The ancient trees groaned as they moved in the wind, and strange birds called out from the mists. Legolas, as an elf, had grown and lived among trees for over a millennia, but these particular woods...

"This forest is old", he whispered to himself and the spirits that were listening. "Very old."

He could feel it. Their anger, their memories, all of it coursing through his blood and through his mind. He could feel this forest, and he could understand it's words.

"Aragorn, this forest is angry", he called up ahead.

Aragorn looked back swiftly, and signaled to Gimli.

"Lower your axe", he instructed.

The dwarf followed these instructions uncertainly, but gripped the handle firmly in his pudgy fist.  
He did not trust such a place where the sun could not shine down on him, or where strange noises and voices followed him. No, he did not trust this place at all.

Legolas peered around them anxiously, looking for something, anything unusual... He felt his breath catch as he noticed a faint glimmer of light up ahead. Fear and anger gripped him. Saruman.

"Legolas?", asked Aragorn quietly.

"The white wizard approaches...", Legolas snarled.

Aragorn sighed, and turned to them briefly.

"Do not let him speak", he ordered, "He will put a spell on us".

Legolas pulled his bow, and fingered the feather on his arrow impatiently. They must move quietly and quickly, as shadows. His silent feet gliding soundlessly on the leave covered ground, Legolas held his breath. They were almost there.

A blinding beam of light, and his arrow flew. Quickly and easily, the wizard deflected it with his staff. One of Gimli's throwing axes shattered on contact, and Aragorn's sword burned the flesh on his palm.

"You are tracing the steps of two young hobbits", the deep voice boomed out to them. "They came this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they, did not expect..."

Legolas was blinded. What good were his elvish eyes when this brilliant light drowned them within it? It was Aragorn who found his voice.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

The light faded slowly, and Legolas still could utter no word.

"It can not be", Aragorn whispered to the wind.

Legolas and Gimli fell to their knees, as Gandalf the White looked down at them, smiling.

* * *

"I have been sent back", Gandalf finished, "Until my task is done".

Once more assembled together, Gandalf had told them everything. Not a single detail forgotten,  
the wizard had fully recounted to them his death and rebirth. The sun had almost set and even Legolas could not see the golden sphere. The smell of the wind, the feel of the leaves in his fingers, all these things told him dusk was not far away.

He made his way closer to where Gandalf, Aragorn and Gimli still stood assembled,  
listening to Mithrandir's tale. Aragorn stood in rapt attention as Gandalf described once more his battle with the Balrog, but Gimli looked over as Legolas called out to them.

"Gandalf, the sun is almost set. These woods will be crawling with orcs once the dark has fallen."

Gandalf and Aragorn looked at each other, and Aragorn turned away. Gandalf stood silently for a moment, before turning back to the elf. He smiled kindly at him, and walked over to the prince. Patting him squarely on the shoulder, Gandalf spoke to him.

"You are absolutely right, Legolas", Gandalf announced. " It would not be wise to simply wait for the orcs to trap us here."

"What do you suggest wizard?", Gimli pressed, impatient.

Aragorn, who still stood facing the west, called back to them.

"We move on to Rohan."

Gandalf smiled, and nodded feverishly. He stepped up to Aragorn, and the two began moving out of the forest. Sighing, Legolas followed. He was tired of feeling so unimportant. Did neither Aragorn or the wizard think he counted for anything? Did his voice not matter? Was his advice so unsought?  
But Legolas was wise, and old past counting. Well, to a mortal perhaps. But the elvish prince knew he was still inexperienced as compared to the ranger when it came to the art of war.  
He shook his head of such childish thoughts. His moment would come.

"Rohan?", whined Gimli, a little too loudly perhaps. " The country of the Horse-Lords?"

"The very same", answered Gandalf.

"But, we ran into them today", Gimli exclaimed. " Ruddy biased lot. Didn't take to the elf too well."

Legolas looked down at Gimli in surprise. He did not think that the dwarf had noticed the particularly venomous looks that Eomer, the horse captain, had shot at him. Perhaps the little axe wielder knew more than he let on. Shaking his head, Legolas patted Gimli's back encouragingly.

" And yourself, my friend. I'm sure he would have cut off your head if it stood but a little higher from the ground", he laughed, quoting the earlier words.

Leaping away from Gimli's swinging fists, Legolas laughed merrily for the first time in weeks. Gandalf joined him, his ringing baritone laugh mixing with Legolas's rich tenor. Even Aragorn could not repress the smile that played upon his lips.

* * *

Eowyn shivered in the chilly night air, and hugged her fur cape closer to her thin shoulders. Her slippers clicked solemnly on the stone floors of the palace, and her long white gown swirled around her ankles. Walking slowly, Eowyn made her way over to the main doors. The heavy oak groaned loudly as she pushed the heavy slabs open. A cold breeze made her long, pale hair fly away from her face and Eowyn kept her head down.

Although the cold was bitter and bit her soft flesh through the airy fabric of her skirts,  
Eowyn sighed happily in the fresh night air. The atmosphere in Meduseld, her uncle's castle,  
was stifling, and she grew weary of looking at the same stone walls. She had lived there since she could remember. Her father, Eomund had been killed in battle, and her mother had shortly followed him. Little Eowyn, now orphaned along with brother Eomer, were sent away to live in the home of her paternal uncle. Théoden had always been kind, and generous to both her and her brother. Eomer had received his first horse at the tender age of eleven and Eowyn had been heaped with jewels and gowns. Even as a little child, Eowyn had not cared for the fineries and luxuries that came from being raised amongst royalty. As Eomer grew older and spent more and more time away, Eowyn had grown lonely and miserable.

Seeing his niece's depressed state, Théoden had given his blessing that she be instructed in swordplay and archery. Although women of Gondor or other neighboring countries had never even touched a weapon, the women of Rohan had learned long ago that those without swords could still die upon them.

Eowyn had quickly fallen in love with her lessons, and even Théoden could see how gifted she was with a blade. Although her brother far surpassed her in his riding skills, the captain had more than once been knocked to the ground by a quick parry or slash masterfully delivered by his sister. Eowyn had grown tough, her long, lean body developing muscle and stamina, and was frowned upon secretly by the ladies of court, who thought that no ounce of muscle should touch a woman's body. As she walked on along the edge of the huge balcony that ran along the front of the castle,  
Eowyn's eyes flew out, taking in every moving tree, every guard on patrol. She was so restless. How she would have loved to join her brother in battle. But she was a woman, and although she was a Shield Maiden, she had never experienced the heat of battle. It just wasn't seemly.

Uncaring of the guards stunned expressions, Eowyn raised her skirts to her knees and tore down the stone steps two at time. Jumping two from the bottom, she flew out and landed gracefully, spinning and blocking an imaginary enemy's blow. Running across the dusty ground,  
Eowyn's hair blew in the wind, flying out behind her and coming back to cover her eyes. She ran blindly, stopping only at the huge wooden gates that marked the entrance to the court yard. Taking in a deep breath of air, Eowyn let out her deadliest war-cry. As the air in her lungs emptied, she simply grew quiet, letting the bloodcurdling scream carry in the night winds.

"Gandalf! Gandalf is here.

"Open the doors."

"The doors!"

She flew back in surprise as guards suddenly rushed forward to open the immense gate. Quickly sprinting back into the shadows of some oak trees, Eowyn watched in wonder as three horses galloped past her, and up the road to where Meduseld awaited them.

* * *

Legolas felt his heart flutter in excitement and worry as his horse galloped past the immense wooden gates of Meduseld. The large castle loomed up ahead, imposing and eerie in the night. The moonlight shone down on the stone, and the wind blew the mighty flags into a frenzy.  
A small collection of peasants stared incredulously at Legolas and his companions. The silence was so loud that even Legolas's sensitive ears heard only the wind and the rustle of leaves. Deep eyes and small faces looked up at him, gazes of curiosity and complete distrust.

"You'd find more cheer in a grave yard", Gimli grumbled under his breath.

Since the proud dwarf's legs would not be long enough to grip the saddle of his own horse, he rode double with Legolas, gripping tightly to the elf's strong back. Although Legolas knew Gimli, would never admit it, he knew the dwarf was terrified of riding alone.

As they galloped by, taking the road that led up to the castle, Legolas caught a shadow in the corner of his eye. A white form went running behind some trees, leaving no sign that it had ever even been there. Legolas shook his head, and gazed straight ahead.

Eowyn ran silently. Her slippers had made too much noise, rasping against the dirt and the plants. Although she was trained to fight and flee while making no sound, doing so was much harder whilst wearing the satiny shoes the palace women wore. Taking both shoes in her hand, Eowyn continued to run barefoot. Keeping to the shadows, Eowyn ran not to the front entrance where she knew those strange visitors must be headed, but for the eastern wall.

She had hid a ladder there, and she could use said ladder to climb up unto the ledge below her balcony. Finally reaching the eastern wall, Eowyn dove quickly through some rose bushes growing along the bottom. Cutting her hands as she groped crazily through the blossoms, her fingers finally brushed the ancient wooden ladder. Pulling it out as quickly as she could, Eowyn dragged it to the wall, propping it up against the stone. Taking a moment to slip on her shoes, Eowyn shivered in excitement. Though her uncle would frown upon it, she would not miss so important a meeting that she was sure was about to take place in the Great Hall. She might be just a woman, but Eowyn refused to let her gender decide her life.

Wincing as small wooden splinters stuck in her hands, Eowyn began to climb nimbly up the ladder to her balcony. The wood was old and some of the steps had rotted from rain. The wood creaked wearily under her weight, but Eowyn continued her climb. As she reached the small ledge under her balcony she pushed the ladder down and sent it tumbling into the bushes below.  
Smiling a little to herself, she reached up and grabbed the edge of the balustrade that ran around her balcony. Pulling herself up gingerly, she winced slightly at the pain in her hands. She had managed to start pulling herself up and had nearly scaled the balustrade when a strong hand grabbed her forearm.

Another hand quickly stifled her screams by covering her mouth, and Eowyn felt herself be pulled up roughly. Angrily pushing away her captive, Eowyn found her self looking up into the face of her brother. Eomer's eyes sparked in fury and his right hand reached out once more and grabbed her wrist.

"Eowyn! What did you think you were doing?"

Eowyn tried to take away his hand, but her brother was much stronger than him. Shaking back her long hair from her face, Eowyn glared back just as furiously.

"You are a man with two good eyes! What did it look like I was doing"

" The sun has long since set! What possessed you to leave your quarters after dark,

Eomer demanded, sounding exasperated. "I know you think yourself all powerful, but you could have been hurt, or worse, kidnaped!"

Eowyn pulled against him but to no avail. Who was he to think he could order her about, and keep her from doing the things he himself enjoyed? He was her brother, not her master!

"Let me go Eomer", she snarled at him, refusing to let him see how much his grip hurt her arm. " Let us talk as civilized people. We should not be fighting amongst ourselves. We are alone if we do."

Eomer let go of her arm, looking slightly ashamed of himself.

" I am sorry, sister", he grumbled in apology. " I forgot myself. Tell me, does you wrist grieve you much?"

Refusing to look down at her throbbing arm, Eowyn shook her head and rewarded her brother with a slight smile.

"I am alright, you great brute", she said playfully. "But I do not enjoy fighting with you brother."

"Nor do I", Eomer responded quickly.

Nodding her head at him, Eowyn walked past him into her rooms. Quickly moving to her immense wardrobe, she threw open the doors and began scurrying through the contents. Finally settling on a long, green gown, Eowyn spun around and darted behind her changing screen. As she pulled her dress off, Eowyn heard her brother call out to her.

"Eowyn? What are you doing? Why change you your gown?"

Laughing to herself as she tried to tie her own corset, Eowyn answered him honestly.

"I can't very well greet our guests wearing a stained dress, can I brother? It would reflect poorly on our uncle."

"You can't truly expect to be granted admission to such a serious reunion, sister."

"I can and I will be", Eowyn answered hotly. She walked out from behind her screen, clad only in her undergarments and the thin dress she wore under her gown. Walking up to her brother and presenting her back, she held out the corset.

"Eomer brother, so you mind? I can not tie the laces myself...Damn those infernal contraptions. And yes, brother, as shall attend that meeting."

"Eowyn, please, try to understand. It is nothing personal, it's just that women have no place in politics", Eomer spoke soothingly to her as his fingers struggled with the corset's ties.

Eowyn spun around to face him. She sighed as she looked into his bewildered face. Her brother would never be able to understand the grueling task it was to live as a woman in this man's world. Quickly tying the corset strings herself, Eowyn swept out through the doors, and was quickly followed by the captain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - No Place For A Woman**

From her hiding place behind the large pillars behind the King's throne, Eowyn could see everything that her family had wanted to keep hidden. Careful not to let her skirts fly out and betray her and making sure to not to breath loudly lest her breath be heard, Eowyn stood with her back pressed against the marble pillar.

Daring to peek around the pole, Eowyn's brown eyes widened as they took in the strange collection of visitors assembled before her uncle. Her mind could hardly register the strange sight that her eyes beheld.

A scruffy looking man with long dark hair stood next to a feeble old man cloaked and capped with a large hat. The two men seemed worn and disgruntled. Why would her uncle have chosen to accept an audience with such boorish looking types? Well, as compared to the remaining companions, the two humans seemed perfectly in place in the main hall.

A stout dwarf, his face hidden behind a bushy red beard, stood next to what Éowyn perceived to be an elf. The little man barely reached below the elf's chest, but his proud chest and haute demeanor amused the princess truly. Letting her gaze sweep over the tall being that towered over the dwarf, Éowyn's heart contracted gently in her chest. Never had she seen so breathtaking a male.

Admitted, the Sheild Maiden was not usually paraded around with thousands of men, but she had certainly seen her fair share. The elf's long, muscled legs were hidden beneath green leggings, and his torso dressed in a darker green tunic and cloak. His lean physique screamed archery, and his still hands promoted a skill with the arrow and blade. Shyly letting her eyes travel up to his face, the smooth, fair skin nearly took her breath away.

She had heard of the beauty and magnificence of elves, but surely this one was exemplar... Her hazel eyes locked on his clear azure ones, and a quick blush heated her cheeks when the elf looked up and caught her gaze.

Quickly sweeping behind the marble pillar, Éowyn struggled to calm her beating heart. The muscle beat so hard against her chest that Éowyn put a hand over her breast, for fear that her uncle or worse, the elf, would hear the deafening pounding. Struggling to regain composure, Éowyn leaned back against the marble column.

So quickly did the hand cover her mouth that Éowyn had no time to scream. The pale, putrid smelling flesh stifled her cries , and the arm twisting her own back made it impossible to move.

"You should not be here, Lady. This is no place for a woman, even for one such as yourself"

The cold flesh of a cheek brushed against her bare neck, sending shivers through Éowyn's spine. The prick of a knife picked into the flesh of her palm. It dug into the hand held behind her back, and Éowyn felt a small rush of sticky warmth flood over her skin. A small snort in her hair made her want to retch, but she fought the urge, deciding instead to bring down a slippered shoe upon her assailant's foot. The hands released her as the small yet deadly heel of the shoe crushed some unlucky toes. Freeing herself of the hands, Éowyn quickly whipped around.

"How you dare lay your filthy hands on me! I should kill you Gríma"

Gríma Wormtongue's smirking face peered at her, causing her body to rock with nausea. Éowyn backed up against a wall as the man's feet stepped closer to her.

"But my Lady, no woman could ever execute a man in your uncle's court", he paused,  
smiling sinisterly at her. "Not even you"

"Leave me alone, snake"

"Oh but you are alone", Gríma whispered, inching ever closer. " Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness, the walls of your bower closing in around you? A cage to trammel some, wild thing in"

Gríma chuckled softly at her stunned silence. Reaching out a clammy hand, he gently cupped the side of Éowyn's face in his palm.

"So fair, so, cold. Like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill. I could, warm you my Lady"

The dagger at Gríma's throat appeared so suddenly that Éowyn could not suppress the gasp that escaped her lips. Wormtongue's darting eyes were panicked, and his frozen body shook slightly in fear.

The elf that Éowyn had been watching suddenly dug the tip of his knife into his captive's throat, releasing a single bead of blood. "Go back to the gutters, you vile snake, or I shall cut your neck around"

As the elf released his hold on him, Gríma stumbled away awkwardly, keeping one hand on the wall to steady his steps. As he disappeared into the dark of a hall, Éowyn suddenly know not where to put her eyes. She felt the slow blush come back into her face, and she groaned inwardly at this show of weakness before her uncle's guest.

Knowing she had to say some kind of thanks, Éowyn once more met the stranger's gaze. His deep blue eyes drilled into hergrey ones, and Éowyn felt the strength leave her legs. He seemed to be looking not only at her but within her, peering down at her very soul. As the elf tentatively smiled at her, Éowyn was suddenly furious with herself. Here she was, acting as a foolish gossip of the court, blushing coyly and acting weak. She knew thanks were in order and she knew she was going to regret her next words. She knew she would be right.

"I needed no help, Sir. I had everything under control"

Éowyn half expected the elf to laugh at her, but the corner's of his mouth barely lifted in smile. His clear eyes held only that look of concern and worry. Carefully stepping closer, the elf held out his hand.  
"Did he hurt you?"

The girl was so taken aback at his question that her normally quick tongue forgot how to move. Staring dumbly at the floor, Éowyn held out her hand before she could help herself. She thudded back into reality as she felt the elf take her hand into his much larger one. The warmth of his flesh startled her a little, and she scolded herself inside. How silly a girl she was being, to be surprised that living flesh felt warm, even the flesh of so magical a creature.

The elf raised her hand closer to his face, looking first into the cut, and then back up to her. Determined to keep his gaze, Éowyn stared back stubbornly and defiantly. With an amused smile,  
the elf released her hand gently. Reaching into one of the flaps of his tunic, he removed a large peice of white materiel. Ripping the cloth easily, the elf took Éowyn's hand once more and tied the tourniquet securely around the injured palm.

" There was no poison on his blade", the elf whispered. " He merely wanted to frighten you.

" He did not succeed", Éowyn shot back. "I was perfectly fine. I can, Sir, take care of my own person, although I do...thank you...for"

Éowyn pulled her hand away, and the elf let it go without hesitation. Looking into his face, Éowyn did not see scorn or pity, but genuine concern, and maybe, admiration?  
Smiling gently as he took a step closer, the elf whispered out to her so that those assembled just yards away could not overhear.

"You do not need to be so defensive, my Lady. I did not mean to offend"

His tone struck Éowyn with such sincerity that the anger she felt died a little within her.

"Please, do not apologize", Éowyn whispered back, "I am afraid my hot head sometimes gets the better of me"

"But there is no doubt in my mind that you are in fact capable of defending yourself", he said,  
stepping even closer.

"Of course, I am completely dependant on my self for safe being", Éowyn replied breathlessly.

"Your strength is admirable, and undoubtedly your skills with blades and horses match those of any soldier of Rohan"

"Well, yes, I suppose"

"But I should hope, dear Lady, that you should never feel the need to protect yourself...", Éowyn inhaled sharply as her back pressed against a wall, "...From me"

Éowyn was incased. Held up against the wall with the elf's long arms entrapping her from either side, she felt her pulse quicken as she gazed at the elf's so close visage.

"No, not from you"

Her mind froze and her body trembled slightly as his lips came nearer to her face. Closing her eyes, Éowyn shut out the voices in her head, screaming at her to escape. She felt no danger, and even stranger still, she felt no desire to leave the encasement of this elf's arms. Her face tipped upwards slightly of it's own accord, and she waited, shaking, for his mouth to meet her own...

"Éowyn? Is that... You! Who are you? What are you doing to my sister"

Éowyn sprang away from the wall, pushing away at the elf's body that was already flinging itself away. Whirling to face the voice, Éowyn's eyes were caught by the furious stare of her elder brother. Éomer was shaking slightly in his rage, and his clenched teeth were grinding unconsciously. His hands clenched into fists at his side, his determined foot falls rang out on the stone floors.

"Éowyn! What are you, do you even know this, creature "

"Éomer, please! You don't under..."

"And you!", Éomer roared, pointing a finger at the elf, " Who are you to come into my home and have such blatant disregard for my uncle and his hospitality! Well? Speak"

Recognition suddenly blazed in Éomer's eyes as he whispered darkly, "You are that elf, the one I met on the plains"

The elf simply looked back at him. Éowyn heard the footsteps approaching before her uncle's voice rang out.

"What is all this yelling about? Éomer, explain yourself"

Éowyn's eyes caught those of her brother frantically, pleading with him. Shaking her head slightly, Éowyn begged her brother with no words. Éomer seemed to hear her as he always did, and sighed in frustration.

"I apologize Uncle, my King", he stammered. " I came and thought to have seen what couldn't possibly be true. I reacted to quickly. I am sorry"

Théoden stared incredulously at his nephew, but seemed to believe him. Sighing a little and shaking his head in disappointment, Théoden looked from Éomer to Éowyn, who quickly looked away. With a sweep of his hand, Théoden gathered the small band of people around him and ushered them back into the hall. Looking back quickly at her, the elf's eyes locked with her own for a moment. As he turned back and followed the king out into his throne room, Éowyn realized she had been holding her breath as a long exhale escaped her trembling lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Alright, so you've noticed Théoden isn't the zombie like slave Gríma made of him. One of the wonders of A.U. my beloved readers. And you've also noticed (most likely) Legolas's slight brashness when it comes to Eowyn. I just wanted to make him a little more rebellious and haughty, for now anyway. I hope no one gives up on this story just yet

_Pandora_.

**Chapter 4**

He had been weak. He had been tempted, and had been too weak to fight it. Legolas screamed at himself in silence, only the slight shake in his closed fist giving any indication that he was upset. How could he have been so stupid, so idiotic! How could he have allowed himself to get so close to a human, royalty no less? And the way that the King's nephew had looked at him . . . Well, Legolas did not blame him. He simply blamed himself.

He knew now that what he had done was wrong, but he could not find a way to justify his actions, other than the honest fact that she entranced him. She had been so beautiful, trembling in the moonlight. Her skin had looked so cold, so smooth. And her face, those lips . . .

_No, _he scolded himself_. You must stop this. You must concentrate on the task at hand._

Of course. That was the reason that he, Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli had come to Rohan. To ask for Théoden's support against Sauron. Of course, the Horse-Lord was prepared to fight against the Dark One's armies. He had not, however, been so willing as to send out his armies to Gondor, where Gandalf was certain the final battle would take place. That is why Legolas now stood in the King's golden hall, watching in silence as the wizard, the king and the ranger from the North argued incessantly over the inevitable war.

"I will not risk open war!", Théoden told them angrily.

"Open war is upon you, wether you would risk it or not," Aragorn replied coolly.

Legolas sighed at his friend's rash bluntness. He agreed with Aragorn, of course the fighting would happen, there was no way to deter it. But since he had grown up in a royal court, he knew that Aragorn's manner could easily be offensive to the King.

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

Thankfully it was to Legolas that Gandalf cut in before Aragorn had a chance to reply. It was important that none yet know Aragorn was truly the Elessar, the King of Gondor. Even if Théoden was no enemy, Gandalf thought it wise that until the Broken Blade could be re forged, that Aragorn's true identity be well hidden.

" You will then not help us, Théoden?", Gandalf asked softly.

Legolas could read the king's answer in the cold of his eyes.

"But it is not right!", Eowyn exclaimed, "Uncle, we should help them!"

Théoden sat calmly in a large wooden chair. He, his niece and his nephew had flocked to the private family sitting rooms, where they could speak alone, away from their strange guests.

Théoden did not look at Eowyn as she paced back in forth before him. He faced instead his still nephew, Eomer. Eomer sighed, and shook his head at his sister.

"It is not wise to do so until we know more, Sister," he tried to explain as soothingly as he could. "We should not involve this country or its inhabitants until these visitors are willing to share all they know."

"They are keeping something from us, Eowyn," Théoden stated, speaking for the first time.

"But Uncle, we must do something. Surely we cannot simply sit by and watch?", Eowyn cried.

Théoden sighed, and waved his hand at her. The gesture stung her. He was dismissing her. Like a common courtier he was dismissing her. Eowyn willed the tears not to spring into her eyes. Her uncle had always been willing to listen to her thoughts and opinions. He had never thought less of her ideas, simply based on her gender. But here, he sat, calmly telling her she was not wanted. Not needed. The realization hurt her to the quick. Eomer, sensing her distress, put a hand on his sister's trembling shoulders. Eowyn quickly shrugged his hand away. She did not want his pity or for him to comfort her. She wanted to be taken seriously.

"We will speak no more of this, Eowyn. The strangers are leaving Edoras tonight. They are, as we speak, preparing to depart.", Théoden told her soothingly. "Once all this excitement is over, things will return to the way they were. You will return to your archery and swordplay."

"Uncle, what good does my training do if you will not let me fight!", Eowyn said as calmly as she could. She could not risk yelling at him like a spoiled babe. " Please Uncle, let me prove myself to you!"

"You have Eowyn, you have!", Eomer exclaimed. "You fight as well as any soldier and your sparring skills far surpass my own. Please, be content to listen to what your Lord tells you."

"There will be a day," promised Eowyn, "When no Lord will ever again decide how I live my life."

Her anger far from spent, she swept out through the door, leaving her brother and uncle gaping in her wake.

* * *

The castle was still as Legolas looked about him one last time. Although it was nothing in comparison to his own Elvish halls, Edoras possessed one kind of beauty that could not rival even the pale majesty of Lorìen. Legolas's eyes strained about in vain for one last sight of her, that fair maiden who had enamored him so. Her long hair, her beautiful, soulful eyes still had him enraptured in his thoughts of her. He wanted so to see her before he left, if even only to apologize for his brash behavior of earlier . . .

Shaking his head, he turned away to follow his companions. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it was better that he did not see her. Maybe it would ease the pain of never being able to know her . . .

No. These thoughts had to stop. He did not even know this woman, save for her name, but what a name. Eowyn . . . His reverie was caught short by the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly from the hall. His keen ears picked up the sound easily, and his mind began to filter the information he was receiving.

These foot falls were too light to belong to some soldier, or even to the king. They were female . . . The sharp click suggested a heeled slipper, something too fine for a servant to be wearing. Daring his luck, he turned to face whoever was so rapidly approaching.

Did he anger Fate by tempting Her so? He could not see how, for upon seeing Eowyn's startled face looking back at him, he knew that Lady Luck was with him. He saw the breath catch in her throat and he could not help but notice the faint color that crawled up into her cheeks.

"My Lady," he whispered, choking on his own words.

Resembling a trapped animal, Eowyn quickly spun on her heel to walk away. Glad for the hair that was partially hiding her face from view, she did not risk looking once more upon the elf that had offended her so. How dare he lay a hand on her? She, the White Lady of these halls? How dare he hold her like he had, how dare he, try to kiss her? ...

"Please, my Lady," the elf's voice was insistent. "I feel as though I should apologize for my rash behavior."

Upon hearing his apology, Eowyn allowed her feet to still. Her breathing slightly troubled, she whipped around more confidently than she felt, and stared back at him.

His light blonde hair in the torchlight nearly took her breath away. The way he stood so tall, his arms hanging strongly at his sides. Arms that had not even two hours ago had held her close.

"I should not have, have approached you so," the elf said calmly, almost as though he were doing her a great honor by admitting this. He did not seem remorseful, if anything, it looked as though his clear blue eyes were laughing at her.

Eowyn felt the deep blush of anger creep into her cheeks. First this elf had the audacity to lay his hands on her, and now he was treating her like a child! The initial shyness gone, the shield maiden glared back at Legolas, the venom in her gaze catching him off guard.

A quick furrow of his clear brow, a slight clouding in his azure eyes, the pause in his breath... Yes, she had captured his attention, perhaps showing him a little of the fire she carried within her. For suddenly, the regal elf had lost some of his composure, and Eowyn had been there to witness it.

"No, my Lord, you should not have done such a thing", Eowyn replied coolly. "But you are not only at fault." Here she paused, allowing her words to sink in, to let him think himself into a false sense of security. Eowyn was pleased, though she did not know why, that he seemed so nervous. "It was wrong of me to allow you to do as you did."

"Allow me?", Legolas repeated slowly "My Lady, please do not carry any of the blame upon yourself. Do not try to stain your own person with the guilt that is solely mine."

"But how could you lay claim to all of it, this guilt master Elf?", she asked coyly. "Surely there were two of us pressed up against that hallway."

The slight red in his cheeks was delicious.

"I know that you are strong, my Lady", he offered graciously. "But please, when I offer my apologies, accept them."

"My Lord...", Eowyn sighed.

"Please Lady, even if you will not admit it, I have most surely offended you, and I am most aggrieved by my actions. Please, your forgiveness," he whispered, "I beg of you."

Those blue eyes were locked deep within her own, and Eowyn felt suddenly exposed, frightened that he could see too deep, into her soul.

"My Lord Elf," she whispered back, "It is not only your fault. As I have said before, I am perfectly able of taking responsibilities for my own actions. However . . . ," she stopped short, blushing furiously.

"However?", he said, taking a step closer, that infuriating grin playing upon his lips.

_Damn, why must I color like a simple gossip mongrel of the court? _Eowyn shook back her hair and stepped closer, staring bravely into his face.

"I am only sorry that you did not, that we, but of course I mean . . . " Her words could not form themselves.

Smiling at her, he was suddenly standing before her. Taking both her hands in his, Legolas smiled at her, toying with her. Eowyn refused to be timid. Boldly raising herself upon the tips of her toes, she raised her face and met the elf's lips softly.

The kiss was short, much too brief for Eowyn, who could have tasted those soft lips forever. But it was the elf who pulled away, smiling down at her.

"I hope to find you again soon my Lady", he whispered down to her, "That we may continue this, amusing argument."

"Perhaps" she whispered back.

Kissing her one last time on the forehead, Legolas turned to go, leaving Eowyn shaking where she stood.

* * *

" I had hoped Théoden would help us", Aragorn said, the frustration filtering into his voice as he mounted his horse. "Or at least swear to come to our aid when the final battle finally encroaches."

"He's frightened Aragorn", Gandalf explained patiently. "He does not fully understand what the wrath of Sauron will entail. Be patient with him."

"The Dark Lord's armies will have no patience with us", Aragorn retorted.

"Théoden is a good man", Gandalf continued, ignoring Aragorn's words. "He will come around in time."

"Come on Aragorn", Gimli called gruffly. "Mount your forsaken beast and let us get on with it. The sooner this ride is over, the better I'll feel."

"Does riding still bother you Gimli?", Legolas asked in jest as he helped the dwarf swing himself into the saddle. "Surely you're used to it by now."

"Tisn't natural", Gimli growled back to Legolas, who mounted gracefully, settling himself in front of Gimli on the horse's back. "Men were meant to use their own legs."

"But neither of us are Men", Legolas retorted, turning to grin at his friend. "If you want to be technical."

"Don't think I wouldna push you off the beast when we get moving pointy-ear", Gimli shot back.

Legolas laughed and faced the front once more.He had shortened the stirrups for Gimli's legs, hoping that they would help the dwarf to stay balanced on the horse's back once they got going. He sighed as he watched Gandalf mount Shadowfax, the wizard's own charge. It was certainly a comfort to have him back amongst them.

"Onward then!", Aragorn called out, galloping past Legolas, Gandalf close behind.

"_Am Arod_", Legolas called to his horse in elvish.

"Oh no, none of that!", Gimli shouted as he gripped Legolas's waist as he was bounced about on the horse's back. "If you're going to be tellin' this nag anything, it'll be in a language we can all understand."

"_Equë Eldandil_", Legolas called back to his friend.

Up ahead, Aragorn was laughing.


End file.
